


The Darkness Gets Bigger

by ZoeWiloh



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood, Concussions, Don't know how graphic it's gonna get probably pretty mild torture, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Kidnapping aftermath, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Torture, Whump, injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-07-31 08:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20112175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoeWiloh/pseuds/ZoeWiloh
Summary: When both Noctis and Prompto are kidnapped, they're left taking care of each other during the ordeal. Some things get better when rescued, but trauma doesn't disappear overnight...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I know I have another story to be working on, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are. 
> 
> I'm trying something new with this one in doing each scene being a chapter, so they're going to be shorter than I often do but some will be longer. I have the first 3 chaps already written and that's a new record for me ;D
> 
> I'm not sure how intense the torture is going to get. What I've written so far is pretty tame as far as torture goes, so I'm sticking with the T rating but that may change if it gets away from me and ends up in a darker place. I'll update the tags as appropriate, since I don't know in detail yet what's gonna happen. 
> 
> Please enjoy :)

Waking up came with a painful kind of clarity Prompto wished he didn’t have to deal with. Denial, while not particularly useful, was far more attractive at this point. Unwanted, the memories came flooding back.

It had been an almost painfully dull day; even the sun seemed to be uncooperative in lighting the sky, apparently deciding to slack off for the day. He could remember walking to the arcade with Noctis after school. They’d been talking about some dumb assignment they both intended to put off as long as possible and which games they wanted to play most once they finally made it to their destination. Both boys had assumed that the secret Crownguard that followed Noctis in plain clothes must have been nearby, like they always were.

Out of nowhere a van had pulled up, swerving into the space beside them and partially mounting the curb to block off an escape route. The two teenagers were suddenly surrounded by several large men, all reaching for Noctis. He didn’t even have a chance to put up a fight. The moment he summoned a sword, one of them had grabbed his wrist tight and wrenched it to loosen his grip. He snarled at the group, appearing ready to continue fighting back. But as soon as he was empty handed again, another man wrapped an arm around his shoulders to hold him in place and roughly shoved a syringe into his neck. He tried clawing at the arm around him but his movements quickly lost strength until his head dipped backwards against the chest of the man holding him as he lost consciousness and the men tossed him into the van like a discarded toy. 

At first, it seemed like none of them had even noticed Prompto, who was standing frozen on the spot in absolute horror. He was fairly certain none of them were even looking at him, and looking back, he should have tried to run. It was stupid, but his brain had just plain  _ stopped,  _ and it never even occurred to him that maybe he should have tried to get away so he could call for help. Instead, he stared, terrified and useless, until a man he hadn’t even noticed before came up behind him and he felt the sharp stab of a needle going through his own skin. It was no surprise he managed to put up less of a struggle than Noctis had, and he was unconscious before he could think anything more than,  _ oh, shit.  _

It was the biggest cliche, but it had all happened in the blink of an eye. 

Prompto had never been much of a fighter up to this point -- he’d been dodging taking the recommended self-defense lessons with Gladio for  _ ages _ and if he survived this he would never hear the end of it -- so he was surprised when he was the first to fight off whatever drug he and Noct had both been given. The first thing he did after waking up -- besides getting slammed with the memories leading up to this nightmare -- was shake Noct, but he was still out like a light. 

A low chuckle came from nearby. Looking around briefly, he saw that they were in a kind of cell, with three solid walls and a barred entrance. Leaning casually with his arms through the bars was one of their kidnappers, with a sick smirk on his face. He drawled, “Why,  _ hello there.  _ I see at least  _ one _ of you had the decency to wake up promptly. Sure hope Sleeping Beauty there is okay,” he said, voice dripping with the most sinister kind of insincerity. “I guess the fun will just have to wait a bit.” He began backing away, saying as he walked out of view, “Don’t you worry, I’ll be back.”

Prompto tried to keep his breathing even until he couldn’t hear the receding footsteps anymore. Once those had faded, it was like his brain decided it was already done with that and his breathing picked up into the beginnings of a panic attack. He shook his friend again, hissing his name several times. 

When Noctis finally began to come around, it seemed like his waking now would be much like when he woke the rest of the time -- slowly. His eyelids fluttered a few times, seeming not to see much, until he opened them wide enough to be able to focus on Prompto’s face in front of him, at which point his eyes shot open and he sat up fast enough that he nearly fell back over. “Shit!” he cried out. “Shit, no, no!” Prompto reached out in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, but in his distraught state, Noct slapped his hand away. “No! Why are you here?!”

With a confused frown and an only part-joking tone he replied, “Gee, thanks bud, great to see you too.”

_ “No,”  _ Noct said again, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes, barely containing his panic. “No, why didn’t you  _ run? _ Why are you  _ here?”  _ he asked again. 

“Oh...I guess I wasn’t fast enough.”

Noctis remained curled up, repeating  _ no  _ under his breath. Prompto wasn’t sure how to comfort him. He wasn’t sure there even  _ was _ a way to do that at this moment. This wasn’t something he could spin in a positive light or a time to tell jokes to lighten the mood until his friend finally smiled. They had been kidnapped by gods know who, for gods know what purpose -- though none of the ones Prompto could think of were in the least bit good, so he tried to shut down that particular train of thought; it wouldn’t be taking him anywhere useful. 

“I can’t believe I let this happen,” Noct whispered sorrowfully. 

Prompto’s face showed almost comical disbelief, like Noct had just told him some crazy conspiracy theory or informed him he actually loved vegetables and early mornings. “You say that like it’s your fault,” Prompto said slowly in confusion, as if trying to make sense of the words himself. 

“Well, yeah, of course it is.”

“So you saw it all coming and decided to continue leisurely strolling to the arcade? Come on, dude, you didn’t know this would happen.”

It was almost like Noct tried to make himself even smaller with the way he hunched his shoulders in and tightened his grasp around his legs. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to will the tears away before answering, “Yeah, I did. It was going to happen again eventually. I’m so sorry that you’re here too. I put you in danger and I’m  _ so sorry,  _ Prompto,” he said, begging for forgiveness. Prompto caught that Noctis had said  _ again _ in there, but he filed that away in his brain to ask about at a more appropriate time.

Seeing his usually aloof friend so emotional was starting to remind Prompto how serious their situation was, but his first priority was still calming Noct down. He tried to tell him, “Not your fault,” but in his anxious state, the words were a bit too muted and lacking the conviction he intended. Again, he tried, “I’m sorry I was dumb and didn’t run but you can’t blame yourself for that.”

“If we survive this, Gladio might murder me himself for not putting up a better fight,” Noct said with a small huff that was probably trying to be a laugh but fell short. 

Silence became their norm for a while. Noctis had closed his eyes and was rocking slightly. Prompto knew his friend well enough to know that even though he sometimes seemed fragile, it took a lot to unhinge him in this way. Again he found himself wanting to help, but he realized that talking to Noct right now would probably just remind him that Prompto was stuck in this mess too, and that wouldn’t do anything positive.

Instead, Prompto spent his time letting his eyes wander around the room. There was a narrow, dingy mattress off to the side of the cell that took up nearly half the space. It was only then that he realized just how cramped the cell really was, and he took a deep breath to combat the claustrophobia kicking in. Swallowing hard, he continued looking around, but there wasn’t a lot to see. There was no kind of window, nothing to help give him any idea of what time it was. A bucket sat in the corner for obvious purposes he didn’t want to face yet. There were spider webs in a few corners, which he also pointedly tried to push out of his mind. Spiders were clearly the least of his problems but there was only so much he could take before the smallest nudge would send him over the edge.

But then he noticed that there was one upper corner of the space that didn’t have any webs at all; it was conspicuously clean. Squinting in the dim cell, he felt a punch to the gut when he recognized what he saw up there: a camera. For a second he considered pointing it out to Noct, but quickly realized how badly that could end, so he kept it to himself for the time being. 

Prompto tried multiple ways to keep himself sane in the silence. First he tried complete denial. He refused to believe where he was, telling himself it was an especially realistic and shitty nightmare that he’d soon wake up from. 

But that thought didn’t stand for long. Ignoring the truth was growing harder, so he thought maybe he’d try the opposite. He picked apart everything leading up to this moment. He tried to remember little details, like where exactly were they taken, did the kidnappers ditch their bags, was anyone on the street who could have reported it, where was their usual not-so-subtle Crownsguard chaperone? Remembering where it happened was easiest, in fact, if he got out of here, he wasn’t sure he could ever walk down that part of the street again. The other questions were a mystery, and he kicked himself for not retaining anything useful. Just as he was glancing at the camera again and contemplating what that could mean for them, Prompto registered the sound of footsteps approaching their cell. 

Apparently Noctis noticed as well. “Prompto,” he hissed, causing Prompto’s head to whip up to look at his friend. Once he’d made eye contact, he continued urgently, “You need to not say anything to them. Do whatever you can so they forget you’re even here.”

“What?” Prompto whispered back incredulously. He gestured to the cell they were in, saying, “This isn’t exactly spacious, dude, not like I can hide in here!”

Despite the gravity of the situation, Noctis found himself rolling his eyes briefly before responding, “You’re not the one they want. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person.” His voice cracked on the last two words but he carried on with the same intensity. “They’re gonna focus on me. Let them. Just stay quiet, don’t draw attention to yourself.”

“But what if-”

“No buts, Prompto,” Noctis snapped. “Just do it.”

Giving him no time to process the directions he was just given, Prompto was startled to find one of their captors already standing outside the bars of their little cell. 

“Looks like the games can finally begin,” the man said with a smile that made Prompto feel sick to his stomach. The feeling intensified as the man slowly rubbed his hands together as if excited for what was to come. “So,” he began, “who wants to have some fun?”

While Prompto was sitting in frightened silence, Noctis jumped up immediately. “Me,” he said resolutely. 

Prompto’s jaw dropped at how quickly his friend volunteered. Before he could remember the single rule Noctis had given him -- keep his mouth shut and don’t make waves -- he was already saying, “What? Dude, no!” 

Noctis turned to glare at Prompto, cutting off any further protests. “Me,” he repeated. 

“You sure?” the kidnapper asked with mock hesitation. “Looks like your friend wants to be the one to go…”

“No!” Noctis cried, taking a step forward. 

“Noct,” Prompto whispered. “You don’t...you don’t have to-”

Instead of responding, Noctis just took the last few steps to stand right in front of the man threatening him harm, staring him down with arms crossed and a determined look on his face. 

“Alright,” the man said simply as he pulled a key from his pocket. Unlocking the cell, he grabbed Noctis tightly by the arm. Prompto had to strain to hear his next whisper, “I doubt I need to remind you that if you escape or even try anything, we don’t need your friend.”

Even in the dim light, Noctis’ glare at the man was easy to see and Prompto somehow felt sicker when he nodded once in response before he was led away. Once the two sets of footsteps were out of earshot, Prompto pulled his legs up to his chest and tried not to feel like he’d just let his best friend walk to his doom without a fight. 

And yeah, that guy had totally just threatened Prompto’s life, but that wasn’t the important part. Noctis was clearly in more danger than he was. And Prompto was sure he would take the man’s threat seriously and behave, which actually made him feel worse. If Noctis saw a way out, he needed to take it, not stay behind for Prompto’s sake.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that these were not the kind of ‘games’ anyone sane wanted to participate in -- and Noctis had jumped to make sure Prompto would have no part in them. 

He was struggling to wrap his mind around it. Just like when they were taken, he had frozen and done nothing, and he felt horribly guilty. He didn’t like thinking of his best friend as royalty -- and neither did Noctis -- but he was suddenly struck by the idea that his  _ Prince _ had just volunteered to put himself in danger in Prompto’s place. 

And Prompto had  _ let him.  _ Did he just commit treason by letting this happen? He already knew he’d let Noctis down in a big way by not running for help, but now he was sure to really get hurt. If they survived this, would he be punished for this failure? Maybe Noctis was okay with his decision now, but would he feel the same when the ‘fun’ was over? Would his friend forgive him for the pain he was sure to endure if Prompto could have stopped it somehow? Would Ignis and Gladio and the  _ King _ forgive him for allowing anything to happen to Noctis? 

What kind of friend was he?

Glancing up at the camera again, he finally let a few tears fall. He was at least indirectly to blame for anything that happened to Noctis and the thought made him finally fall apart. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody. Got the next chapter for y'all. It's a bit on the short side but I promise the next one is longer. 
> 
> I've proofread this several times and it still feels like I'm missing something, so if there are any major errors or things that don't make sense, feel free to point them out. I just wanted to finally get this out there since I'm looking forward to sharing the next chapter so much more.

Noctis’ mind was swirling with a million different thoughts as he was led down a long hallway. 

Of course there was fear, he would have to be a special kind of stupid to not be afraid. While there was no way to know exactly what was in store for him, he knew on some level what he was being marched towards. 

He felt awful leaving Prompto behind, despite the fact that it was so much safer for him this way. It was completely Noctis’ fault that he was taken in the first place; no one would have looked at him twice if he didn’t stand next to Noctis so much of the time. The next time he saw Prompto he’d have to apologize for all this again. 

There were no doubts in his mind that Prompto would forgive him, but  _ should _ he? He didn’t have a mean bone in his body; he probably couldn’t hold a grudge if he wanted to. But none of that made any part of this okay. Even if Prompto would forgive him -- and he’d likely even insist there’s nothing to be forgiven, Six bless his innocence -- he wasn’t sure he could forgive himself if anything happened to his friend. 

So this was the way it had to be. He told himself over and over that cooperating with his captors and taking whatever they inflicted on him was really the only option.

Gladio would probably kick his ass for taking the _(hopefully)_ figurative bullet for Prompto. Ignis would have something to say about it as well. They’d insist his safety was more important than Prompto’s -- _but_ _it wasn’t. _Noctis was sick of the special treatment for something as silly as a birthright. There was _nothing _that separated the two of them besides something he never earned and honestly didn’t even want most of the time -- and even when he accepted what it meant, he never _liked _it. 

Then the memory of this man threatening Prompto’s life should he try to escape came back to his mind. The very real possibility that Prompto had always been part of the plan to ensure Noctis’ cooperation made him feel more than a little sick. Gladio would probably kick his ass all over again for not fighting, but what choice did he really have? Forget what a terrible friend that would make him, but would it even make him a good ruler to let someone else bear the consequences of his own actions just because they weren’t royalty? If that’s what they wanted him to do as Prince -- and someday, King -- he wanted no part of it. That wasn’t the kind of leader he ever planned to be. 

Noctis couldn’t be sure how long he and Prompto were unconscious, but that just made him all the more sure their disappearance had been noticed by now. He knew no one in the guard or glaive would be spared from the search for him and while that was reassuring in the long term, it was very little consolation in the face of his more immediate future. 

The endless spiral in his thoughts stopped him from realizing they’d reached their destination. In the back of his mind, he noted that they actually hadn’t traveled far from the cell at all. A sigh of relief escaped him as the painfully tight hold on his arm disappeared, but was quickly cut off as he was shoved roughly into a lone seat in the middle of the room. 

Before he could even register what was happening, someone grasped his wrist to hold it in place against the arm of the chair. He felt his stomach sink a little further when he saw there were metal cuffs built into the arms. The man moved to secure his other wrist and Noctis gave the one already cuffed a tug; it was tighter than he would like but not enough to cut off his circulation. After his arms were restrained, they moved on to his ankles next, tying them to the chair with rope the old-fashioned way.

Panic began to rise up in him and he tried with all his might to push it back down. He’d known all along something like this was coming, but somehow it took actually being restrained -- fully stripped of any means of defending himself -- before the reality of the situation really sank in. Keeping his head down, he tried to hide his face so as to not give them the satisfaction of seeing the fear he was having so much difficulty hiding. 

“So, Your Highness,” one of the men sneered. “Welcome, welcome. So nice of you to join us,” he continued in his sarcastic tone as he paced in circles around him. “You have  _ no idea _ how I’ve waited for this day.”

Noctis knew what this was. With the slow, measured steps around him adding to the suspense, and the way he always chose to speak only when out of Noctis’ view. It was clearly an intimidation tactic. 

Shame flooded him when he realized how well it was working. 

“Oh please,” Noctis replied, trying to sound as if he was exasperated and already entirely bored with the scenario. “Just get it over with, will you? Skip the villainous speech you’ve apparently been planning and just do it.”

There were a few snickers in the room around him at his insolent response. The man circling Noctis paused behind him. “Not one for begging, I see. We can fix that,” he leaned in to hiss into Noctis’ ear. 

After backing off for a moment, the man suddenly kicked the back of the chair hard, tipping Noctis forward. With his hands and feet bound, he had no way of stopping the fall. He let out a small yelp at the uncontrolled feeling of falling. At the last moment, a different man caught him by the shoulders and kept him from falling any further. 

Just as Noctis was thinking this meant they were going for psychological torture, the man suspending the chair lifted it slightly and pulled up his knee to ram Noctis in the face. Almost immediately, he could feel the flow of blood streaming from his nose. In the back of his mind he idly realized that the only sound he’d made at the impact was a grunt and felt a small flicker of pride. 

But that flicker disappeared quickly as he was set back upright only to be immediately kicked in the chest, sending him falling backwards. No one stepped in to stop the fall this time and he heard a wet  _ thump  _ as the back of his head struck the floor. This time he couldn’t stop the resulting noise from leaving his mouth. 

Breathing heavily, he waited for the next hit to come, completely torn between wanting to have some warning for the next hit and squeezing his eyes closed against the pain still throbbing through his skull. 

Eventually, he opted for the former, prying his eyes open and looking up to find one of his attackers looming over him. “Y’know, your friend is really worried about you. Maybe you should try being a little louder. So he knows how you’re doin’ an’ all.” 

As if Noctis needed to be reminded that Prompto was just a couple hallways away from these sick bastards. The thought made the panic rise back up. If he wanted them to stay away from Prompto, he needed to keep the attention on himself. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was the only way he could protect him while tied to a chair. He wasn’t exactly drowning in options in this position.

With a deep breath, he forced out a spiteful, whispered, “Screw you.”

In response, the man reared his foot back as if getting ready for a strong kick. Noctis closed his eyes tight and angled his face away in anticipation, but the hit didn’t come. After a few seconds, he dared to open his eyes again, only to see a boot coming down on his cheek. At the last second, it moved to slowly push down on his throat instead. 

Noctis’ breath hitched as the airway began closing off bit by bit. He couldn’t help making a face as it also had the additional effect of pushing his neck and head slightly harder against the concrete floor, aggravating what was apparently an open wound on the back of his head _ . _

Time ticked by slowly. At least, it sure seemed like it from Noctis’ point of view. There was literally nothing he could do but lie there, slowly getting less and less air, not even in control of whether he would remain conscious or not. The helplessness made him recall the dark time in this life when he couldn’t walk, but he ultimately decided that being at his kidnappers’ complete mercy and not getting enough air topped those miserable memories. 

Just as he was moments away from blacking out, the weight was lifted away and air rushed back into his lungs. It was a relief, but also came with a flood of nausea to accompany the reprieve, leaving him panting and a feeling of desperation deep in his gut. 

After catching his breath enough to be able to focus on anything around him, he heard the unmistakable sound of a switchblade from somewhere behind him. Just as he saw the slightest glint of light off the knife, a new voice cut in.

“I think that’ll do for today. Start ‘em off easy,” a feminine voice came from the corner. One of the men made a disappointed whine, like one would expect from a young, crestfallen child. “You boys take care of him. I’ll go give his friend his little present,” she said mysteriously. 

The surprise of hearing a voice from a woman he didn’t recall seeing before was overridden by the alarms going off in his head. “No! Don’t hurt him!” he cried out as loud as he was capable of, but it was more of a hoarse whisper at best. The weight on his throat must have damaged something.

She came over and squatted near his head and practically cooed as she stroked his hair. “Oh, he’s not the one you should be worried about, sweetie,” she said in a mockingly sweet voice. “In case you haven’t noticed, these boys don’t play gentle. You might wanna worry more about yourself.” She stood and addressed the other two men again, “I’d hate to miss anything, so behave while I’m gone.” After she grabbed some sort of large box Noctis couldn’t make out, she slipped out of the room. 

Despite some grumbling, the men obeyed her order and started to release Noctis from the chair, one on his left and the other on his right. Even when he was technically freed, it was nearly impossible to move. Pain signals from all over his body were battling for his attention and it was wreaking havoc on his ability to think straight. The worst was probably his head, but he could still feel the phantom of something pressing down and constricting his airway when he didn’t actively try to think of something else.

It wasn’t until one of the men lightly prodded him in the arm with their boot that he realized they expected him to stand up on his own. With some difficulty, he rolled onto one side and attempted to force himself the rest of the way up, but dizzily collapsed each time he tried. 

Apparently, he took too long for the men watching from a few steps away. One of them muttered something Noctis couldn’t be bothered to decipher; getting off the floor was taking up all his attention. He was beyond caring about anything these guys had to say anyway. A moment later came a brutal kick to his back, aggravating his childhood injury unbearably. He screamed in agony, vision blurring even further from the pain. 

Finally satisfied with Noctis’ reaction, the men reached down and each took hold one of his arms and hauled him upright and dragged him out of the room, barely conscious. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I've got the next chapter here for ya. It's the comfort half of h/c and it's a lot lighter than I initially intended but maybe that's welcome? Idk. Let me know what you think if you've got the time, it would be very much appreciated. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Back in their cell, Prompto was starting to feel vaguely sick. Lost in rapid thoughts and crippling guilt, he had no idea how much time had passed since Noctis was taken away, which only made waiting all the more terrifying. Despite being nearly certain he would be brought back eventually, each moment alone made him more anxious than the last. 

The events before he was taken away from their cell kept replaying in his mind. The fierce way Noctis had protected Prompto from harm was especially haunting. He never doubted his importance to Noctis; it clearly mirrored how important Noctis was to him. But seeing it in action was jarring, especially considering it was a side of Noctis he had never seen before today. Not that there had ever been a situation to draw such a response out, but still. 

He was pulled from thought at the sound of a door opening and footsteps approaching. Straining his ears, he realized with a sinking feeling that there was only one person coming toward him. Not Noctis then. Then, fear started building in his chest as he remembered Noctis’ instructions to draw as little attention as possible -- but how was he supposed to do that when he was alone in here? Wanting to obey Noctis’ wishes, he quietly scooted into the back corner of the cell, hoping that would help somehow. 

When the footsteps finally reached him, he was surprised to see they belonged to a woman. She set down the large box she was carrying to open the cell door, then firmly kicked the box inside. She stood watching Prompto for a minute, then finally closed the door and said mysteriously, “You’re gonna need that.”

Though feeling apprehensive about whatever these people could think he would ‘need’, his curiosity won out and he crawled forward to the box hesitantly. It was a simple cardboard box, but inside were a few first aid textbooks and assorted medical supplies. With a gulp, he looked back up to her questioningly. She raised her eyebrows at him in mild surprise, as if implying that the purpose of the box should be perfectly clear. 

Just as she was turning to leave, a scream echoed in the distance. Prompto’s heart stopped for a split second before it went on to kick into overdrive. 

“Damnit, I told them not to do anything without me,” she grumbled with a scowl. Louder, addressing Prompto, she said, “You’ll be needing that, your friend is counting on you,” and walked down the hall the way she’d come. 

Alone again, he started to dig through the box, trying hard not to think about what he’d need any of it for. He wasn’t  _ that  _ naive; he had no doubt that Noctis was going to be returned to him in less than pristine condition, but he didn’t particularly want to think about it. Speculating on what caused that scream wasn’t going to help anybody. 

He was still pawing his way through the box when the door at the end of the hall opened again, this time bringing more sets of footfalls and a strange dragging sound he couldn’t picture the source of in his mind. 

When they finally reached the cell, he saw that there were two men half-dragging Noctis along with them. He was attempting to walk on his own but largely failing. His head was down, as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up. One of the men kept his hold on him while the other pulled out a key and unlocked the cell. Apparently tired of waiting for Noctis to move on his own, he was shoved roughly back inside, tripping over his own feet and, thankfully, landing mostly on the mattress. The two men turned and left them on their own again without a word. 

“N-Noct?” Prompto stuttered quietly. He reached for his friend’s shoulder, then thought better of it. He couldn’t bear it if he accidentally hurt him more. 

Noctis was a mess, though it wasn’t as if Prompto could have expected anything else. His eyes were nearly closed, mouth open and gasping. There was drying blood under his nose, running over his lips and down his chin. Nothing else was jumping out as wrong, but he was sure that was only the beginning. 

“Noct, they left me with first aid stuff but...but I need to know what happened,” he whispered, voice almost breaking on the last word. He really, really didn’t want to know what happened, but then he just felt horrible for even thinking that. Noctis had just endured gods knew what at the hands of their kidnappers, all so Prompto wouldn’t have to. The least he could do was take care of him now, and he couldn’t think of a way to do that without having some idea of what happened. 

No response. This time, Prompto did reach out to Noctis’ shoulder, giving it a light shake. All he got in response was a groan. He was left really hoping that Noctis was just worn down from being tor-  _ no, _ he couldn’t think the word, not yet, despite the fact that there was no denying what happened. 

Prompto leaned in and whispered, “Please tell me how I can help, there’s gotta be something.”

He almost collapsed in relief when Noctis finally whispered, “I’m okay.”

Ohhhhh-kay, not what Prompto was expecting. And also clearly not true. Nothing about Noctis was  _ okay  _ right now. “How can I help?”

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” he whispered breathlessly again. 

“But you’re  _ not,”  _ Prompto insisted. “They left me with medical supplies and a first aid textbook, but I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Noctis wrinkled his nose, like he did when Ignis gave him something too healthy for his tastes, but that apparently drew a surge of pain to his face, leaving him silently gasping for air. “Just took a few hits,” he said a bit louder, still sounding incredibly hoarse. Prompto was starting to suspect that he wasn’t just being quiet from being wiped out, but again he had no idea how to help with that. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before when training.”

“I didn’t realize Gladio was that sadistic,” Prompto muttered. 

That actually got the tiniest of chuckles from Noctis, which made Prompto smile a little despite the circumstances. “I promise, it’s not a big deal.”

“Dude, you’re bleeding, kind of a big deal.”

Noctis sighed and closed his eyes the rest of the way, which scared Prompto to death, but then he smirked a bit and teased, “Listen to you, you sound more like a doctor already.”

Digging through the box of supplies, Prompto found some wipes. He ripped one open and said, “I guess I’ll just clean off your face.”

“Don’t. I’m fine. Don’t waste it.”

Prompto sighed. “I already opened it, just let me clean your stupid face.”

That actually got a full, but still breathy, laugh out of Noctis. Eyes still shut, he nodded a bit to give permission. This time with a more relieved sigh, Prompto moved to start cleaning the blood from under his friend’s nose. 

“Is...is it...?” he trailed off, afraid to fully vocalize the question, just pointing vaguely at Noctis’ face as he asked. 

“Broken? No, don’t think so,” he answered quietly, smirking a bit at the relieved sound Prompto made at his answer. “I’ve never broken my nose but I have been hit in the face before, so I’m not too worried.” The long answer left him huffing for breath a bit. 

“I...guess there’s that?” Prompto asked uncertainly. 

Even beyond the obvious fact Prompto had never been kidnapped before, he’d never really had friends before Noctis, and since his parents were rarely around, he wasn’t used to comforting others. Not that he was unwilling, it was just completely uncharted territory. Learning how to comfort  _ himself  _ had been quite the journey, and he was discovering the skill didn’t transfer perfectly. So much of calming himself down was actually self-deprecating, telling himself to toughen up for once or that his problems weren’t actually that serious. But it wasn’t as if he could tell his clearly very hurt friend to grow a pair or inform him that he didn’t have it that bad. Even trying to look on the bright side seemed horrifically inappropriate at a time like this. 

Noctis’ breathing shifted slightly, telling Prompto his friend had actually fallen asleep. Chuckling slightly, his shoulders slumped after he finished cleaning Noctis’ face and let himself sit back. 

One of his most distant but also most treasured childhood memories was of his mother comforting him when he was sad. It was before he was old enough that his parents deemed it safe to leave him alone, so he did have a few precious memories of the time before an empty house became his norm. He remembered crying in his bed, upset over something small, something that seemed so distant and silly now that he was being held hostage in a dingy cell. His mother was comfortingly running her fingers through his hair, sometimes straying to stroke along his eyebrows when he lifted his face enough for her to reach. As little as Prompto saw his parents, he knew Noctis had no memories of his own mother, which made him all the more grateful for those years of his youth before his parents’ presence faded from his life. 

Despite their relationship not being an especially touch-y one, Prompto felt like maybe that was a way he could comfort Noctis while he was sleeping uneasily. He crawled over to sit against the wall by the end of the disgusting mattress to position himself by Noctis’ head and reached out tentatively to run his fingers lightly through his hair. He started near the front in his bangs and when it seemed like the touch might be helping, he strayed further back on his head…

...Until he realized that the hair on the back of Noctis’ head was sticky and clumped together by what could only be blood. 

With panic beginning to stir, he pulled out one of the textbooks their captors had left him, looking in the index for head injuries, which directed him to the section on concussions. He spent the next few minutes reading that section, until he reached the warning about the dangers of letting a patient with a concussion sleep. 

Practically tossing the book out of his lap, Prompto urgently turned to shake Noctis’ shoulders. “Noct, wake up! Noct! I’m serious, buddy, please,” he begged. 

“Wha’ is it?” he murmured sleepily, feebly pushing Prompto’s hands away. 

Thinking of the visible symptoms of a concussion the book listed, he said, “I need to see your eyes.”

“Quit bein’ weird, I was asleep,” he grumbled in reply. 

Moving toward Noctis again, Prompto reached hands under his shoulders and lifted him off the mattress as far as he was able to without cooperation. “I need to make sure your eyes are okay.”

“Huh?”

“I need to check you for a concussion.”

“Go ‘way, I’m not concussed.”

“I don’t  _ care,  _ Noct, I’m not letting you sleep until I know you’re okay!”

Softly muttering obscenities, Noctis slowly sat up the rest of the way until he was upright and had his back pressed to the wall. Prompto leaned forward and tilted Noctis’ head towards the light outside their cell. His pupils looked roughly even, which was reassuring, but he wanted to be sure. 

“Where are we?” he asked, trying to follow the recommended questions in the book. 

Noctis looked at him incredulously before saying, “How would I know?”

“Okay, bad question, um-,” he cut himself off, rushing to fetch the medical textbook for the other questions. “Uh, what year is it?”

“Can’t believe you woke me up for this.”

“Noct, please, I’m seriously worried, if you’re concussed you can’t sleep!”

He rolled his eyes before replying, “And what if I am? How does that change anything?”

He didn’t have an answer to that, but he still felt like he needed to know. Noctis was right; even if Prompto determined that he did, in fact, have a concussion, there was practically nothing they could do about it. But a strange sense of duty had been placed on his shoulders and he couldn’t let it go. Skimming the book again, Prompto began, “Okay, one more question-”

Noctis cut him off, “-Prom, buddy, I’m warning you right now, if you ask me who the king is, I might have to hurt you.”

Prompto made a small noise of protest but eventually conceded. “I’m just worried.”

Noctis’ shoulders slumped and he answered, “Me too, but this is one less thing for you to worry about. Not a concussion. I’ll be fine.”

After an extended silence, Prompto changed the subject entirely. “You didn’t have to do that, y’know.”

Immediately knowing what his friend was talking about, Noctis murmured in reply, “No. I really,  _ really _ did.”

Prompto didn’t know how else to say what was on his mind. He knew already that Noctis wouldn’t be okay with any kind of notion that Prompto was less important than the Crown Prince was. The proposal of Prompto going in Noctis’ place the next time would be equally unwelcome. Any comment that suggested Noctis should be or needed to be protected would be shot down. _ Hard.  _

But what else was he supposed to say? The next time Noctis was taken away, was he supposed to wave happily and tell him, ‘See ya later!’? How ungrateful would it seem if he didn’t even say anything? If he just let it all go unsaid, how would Noctis feel in the end? Prompto couldn’t handle it if his best friend was hurt again and again and thought that Prompto didn’t even appreciate what he was going through on his behalf. The idea of not talking about this at all made Prompto feel even worse than he already did about this whole situation. 

Still, he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least offer. Isn’t that what a friend should do? Try to keep his friend from getting hurt over and over? “What if-” Prompto began.

“- _ no,”  _ Noctis cut him off immediately. 

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” Prompto muttered, instantly defensive. 

Noctis gave him an unimpressed stare that was eerily similar to a look Prompto had seen from Ignis countless times. Almost spooky how similar it was, in any other situation Prompto probably would have laughed his ass off. “So you weren’t going to try and tell me you’d rather go with them the next time they come for me?” 

“Well…” he trailed off, having little idea how else to respond. Of course he was going to offer to go in Noctis’ place. How could he not? Even ignoring the memory he had of being cornered by Gladio and Ignis, who proceeded to lecture him on his duty to Noctis to keep him safe to the best of his ability, isn’t that what he should do for someone he cared about? It sure seemed like the right answer to him, but Prompto couldn’t claim to have ever taken Royal Kidnap Victim Etiquette 101. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Noct,” he finally settled on. Because he didn’t have a clue what to say to Noctis right now. None of his instincts on how to act or treat his friend in this situation were hitting the mark. 

“I don’t want or expect you to do anything,” Noctis replied without a trace of emotion, purely robotic. When Prompto just gave him an uncertain look, he sighed and his expressionless face faded into one that could only be described as utterly exhausted. He continued softly, “You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me, Prom. I would never let you suffer because of me. I can’t.”

As heartwarming as the sentiment was, Prompto still couldn’t help but feel unsure. Every inch of his brain was screaming at him that Noctis’ wellbeing was worth so much more than his own could ever be. It didn’t matter that he was only taken because of Noctis; he was here with him and that was that, so didn’t he need to do what he could to protect him?

Seeming to hear the inner workings of his friend’s brain, Noctis added quietly, “Those bastards already gave you what you need for your part. I barely even want to ask that of you, honestly,” he mumbled as an aside. Swallowing, he continued, “That’s all you need to do. Help me deal with...my end of the deal and keep yourself safe. You’re not the one they really want, anyway. You know that, right? They’re taunting me with the idea of you getting hurt.”

Hearing Noctis refer to it as ‘his end of the deal’ was upsetting, to say the least. Prompto didn’t want to ever think about it being Noctis’ place to get hurt. And now that it was spelled out for him, he understood that they probably wouldn’t let Prompto go in Noctis’ place anyway. When he said it like that, it seemed pretty black and white. Whether he should volunteer despite Noctis’ wishes and pray they take him up on it was more of a grey patch, but what Noctis wanted from him was clear enough. 

So he decided then that he would do what Noctis asked him to. 

Until he couldn’t anymore. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and please know every kudos, bookmark, and comment means the world to me. They really help me keep going, so I'd love to hear what you thought if at all possible. 
> 
> My tumblr name is the same as my name here (zoewiloh) so please feel free to say hi, I love to chat with people :D (sorry, I couldn't get the link to work.)


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